


Poems

by InsomiCat



Category: Original Works
Genre: Angst, Depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2020-01-12 08:53:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18443207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsomiCat/pseuds/InsomiCat





	1. Chapter 1

Depression is like the monster under your bed, except it's not under your bed it’s beside you- under your covers where you’re trying to hide.  
It’s like a weed burying invasive tendrils deep into the vulnerable depths of your mind and like weeds it is impossible to dig up and remove.  
It is infesting your everyday thoughts like a horde of biting scratching vermin and you can’t drive them away because they are not rats they are shadows on the wall and you don’t have a light to turn on and make them disappear.  
It is not a thing you can touch but it touches you and infects you with horrible thoughts and self hatred like black and red stains on your soul that can almost be seen if only it were a little more ‘real’. But it is real.  
It burdens you till your back is bowed and your head bent to face the ground. It weighs so heavily it’s like dragging iron balls chained to your ankles.  
It’s not ‘all in your head’. It is a disease with no visible cause or symptoms. You beat it back and it abates only to come back twice as hard, a vicious cycle of lessening highs and ever lower lows.  
It is losing your appetite and not having the energy to get out of bed. It is apathy and tears that come out of nowhere. It is the desire to be left alone and the fear of being lonely.  
It is the realization that you desperately need help but not knowing how to ask for it. It is fear of people saying something is ‘wrong’ with you but being unable to voice it.  
It is mutterings in your mind that you try to translate into something that makes sense. It is streaks of pain painted across your being that cut so deeply but are still invisible.   
It is confusion that overwhelms and sadness that drowns. It is tiredness that drags and anger that burns. It is joy that you don’t trust to last.   
Its begging for help in a voice that doesn’t sound out, locked in your throat, chains tightening slowly and inevitably dragging you towards a cliff as bloody nails claw for a semblance of ‘happy’.   
It is questioning everything good in your life and waiting for it to fade away like a mirage. It is the bad events piling up in a teetering stack just a single breath away from crushing you.   
Depression is a monster, a sickness, something you wish would just disappear but instead fight constantly just to function in a way that you hope resembles ‘normal’


	2. gone

The world drifts  
A haze of grey that covers tired eyes  
Sound fades out  
A chill invades aching bones  
Regrets that could fill a book  
Broken and shattered  
Laying on blood soaked concrete  
Pain fills mind and body  
Darkness hovers   
The reaper comes and goes  
Open eyes see nothing


	3. tick tock

tick tock  
the clock winds down  
time is running short  
have you finished all your tasks?  
chase the ever moving hands  
don't fall behind  
or else you'll never stop  
tick tock  
sands run out  
now fight before you die  
tick tock  
sharp arrows tip the hand  
that crashes from the clock  
dodge with all your might  
tick tock  
time is wavering  
shifting before you  
blink the rabbits from your sight  
they are not real  
not sheep but wolves  
slavering jaws hunger  
pulling the wool over your eyes  
tick tock   
times up


End file.
